


Rescue Me.

by AugustStories



Series: Chuck Shurley, Ex-Prophet [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Chuck Shurley is Not God, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, NOTHING IS GRAPHIC, Protective Gabriel (Supernatural), Protective Sam Winchester, Relationships are tagged to be on the safe side, but they are only hinted at or read between the lines in this, praying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 14:53:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19231363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AugustStories/pseuds/AugustStories
Summary: Chuck got to live six months of his normal happy life, six months of writing, reading and some dating. He was just happy with this boring life where the most exciting thing that happened was an eighty year old woman getting a little too into fairytale retelling.So of course something had to go wrong.He was Chuck Shurley, Ex-Prophet, he wasn't allowed to just be happy.





	Rescue Me.

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna shit on Chuck, then go and look for some other place.
> 
> I still love the character, especially the one we saw in the early seasons.
> 
> This was inspired by the SPN Summer Rewatch, if you don't know what that is, go check it out on Twitter, it's so much fun. (@SPNSummer2019)

Chuck got to live six months of his normal happy life, six months of writing, reading and some dating, though it didn't work out with Lauren. But he tried, at least he tried and they did have a good time together, it just wasn't meant to become more and then Lauren got a job offer in St. Louis and Chuck was happy for her. He was just happy with this boring life where the most exciting thing that happened was an eighty year old woman getting a little too into fairytale retelling.

 

So of course something had to go wrong.

 

He was Chuck Shurley, he wasn't allowed to just be happy.

 

He was in Saint Joseph on the border to Kansas, walking back to his motel room after talking to a pair of too handsy old ladies, when something connected with the back of his head and his world went black.

 

\--

 

When he worked himself back to consciousness and a throbbing head, he found himself chained to a sturdy looking chair with cuffs and actual chains, and his surroundings looked just as awful. He spent an achingly long time just flat out panicking because no, no, no, no, this couldn't be happening. Only when his chest was burning and he really needed to breathe did he force himself to snap out of it and remain calm. The following deep breath he took brought an overwhelming smell of sulfur with it, so heavy that he choked on it and started coughing, eyes tearing up.

 

That answered where then.

 

His prophecy memories had faded more and more, but some details, some vivid images just stuck.

 

And despite never having been anywhere close to it, Chuck would never forget the smell of Hell, experienced through Dean.

 

Right back to panicking then because this was so not good and Chuck was not up to a vacation in Hell, he was ranting about humanity and Earth on a daily basis but that didn't mean he wanted to leave it, let alone exchange it for the assholes in Hell or the dicks in Heaven. Earth was fine, thank you very much.

 

And this had to be a big misunderstanding because Chuck was Chuck, Chuck had nothing to give. Chuck was a nobody and... but he had once not been a nobody, quite on the contrary, he had once been a somebody and that Archangel watchdog had been placed on his shoulder for a very good reason.

 

Archangel!

 

_Gabriel, can you hear me, I..._

 

And that was when the door opened, the woman who walked in didn't even hide her blackened demon eyes and Chuck shuddered even though he didn't want to show his fear so openly. Behind the woman in her deep red pants and leather top, there followed a man who looked like he had been plugged right from the depths of an alternative community. Nothing in his clothes was not colored in atrocious color mixes and Chuck, focus. There were seriously more important things to do here. The woman had walked up to him, and even without her ridiculously high heeled boots she would definitely be taller than Chuck and she had to lean down when she wanted to trace a finger over his cheeks. Chuck turned his face away from her head but he paid the price when she tsked and backhanded him twice.

 

And then she asked her question for the first time.

 

“How did they open the Cage?“

 

_Gabriel, I need you._

 

\--

 

Everything that followed was just pain.

 

Nothing but pain.

 

\--

 

“How did they open the Cage?”

 

_Gabriel, please hear me. I need help. I don't know where I am. They're hurting me, please help me._

 

\--

 

Gabriel missed a step on the bunker stairs and nearly would have lost his footing and tumbled down if Sam hadn't grabbed his elbows at the same time as Gabriel had spread his wings to balance himself. What the hells had that been?

 

“Gabe, are you okay?” Sam wanted to know, clearly alarmed and worried because even when the brothers had freed him from the Pagans Gabriel hadn't been out of it enough to tumble down stairs, he was an Archangel for crying out loud. He didn't miss steps.

“Yeah, just...” Exactly, just what had that been, Gabriel was glad Dean and Cas had only dropped them off by the bunker before driving into town for groceries. The older Winchester would have never let him live this down. “Actually, I don't know what that was but I think it passed.” Sam didn't look convinced but still dropped his hand and let Gabriel descend the stairs on his own.

 

He got as far as the two small steps up into the library before this stab of white hot something slashed through his awareness again and this time his knees did buckle from under him. His knees hit the ground hard and he gasped for air he didn't need as his palms followed.

 

“Gabe!” Sam was there immediately, crouched down at his side, big warm hand on Gabriel's back. “Hey, what's wrong? Talk to me, tell me what I can do.”

“I don't know,” Gabriel continued to gasp because this hurt like nothing he had felt in a long time, “It's like... like there is a prayer that can't get through... like there is this pull and...” He broke off and gritted his teeth when another wave rolled over him. He distantly heard Sam fumble around and then the dialtone of a phone.

 

“Dean, you need to come back. Now. Something is wrong with Gabe.”

 

Sam hadn't even really finished speaking before there was the sound of wings and Cas was crouching down on Gabriel's other side, wings fluttering in his distress, one hand reaching out to touch Gabriel's shoulder.

 

“Brother?”

 

“I don't know... it's.... Oh Dad, Sam, close your eyes!” He called out in alarm when his Grace took control of the situation and spread out, Gabriel could only pray that Sam had closed his eyes in time because even Cas cried out in alarm. He didn't know how long it took as his Grace tried to find the cause for this distress on his senses but when it snapped back to him, Gabriel's head was clear again and he found Sam cowering with his hands covering his head in front of him and Cas leaning back against the wall on his other side. Gabriel met his eyes first and Cas nodded at him, everything okay there. Next Gabriel sat back on his heels and brought Sam upright again and he breathed out deeply when he found Sam unharmed.

 

“What was that?”

 

\--

 

“Will you tell me now how they opened the Cage?”

 

“No.”

 

“I want more blood from him.”

 

_I can't do this much longer, please, Gabriel, please. You told me you would come. Please. Please make this pain stop. Please. Please. Please, Gabriel, please come._

 

\--

 

“Are you praying, little man? You can try but it won't help you here, you'll never be heard. Now tell me how the Winchesters opened the Cage!”

 

“No.”

 

“Have it your way.”

 

More pain.

 

So much pain.

 

_Gabriel, please!_

 

And then darkness.

 

\--

 

“So like a prayer that can't get through?” Sam wanted to know as he put some books on angel lore down on the table in the war room. Gabriel was sitting with his elbows propped up on the table top, chin resting on his clasped hands, his brows were pulled tight, not knowing what was going on was bothering him hard. Sam could understand, for someone as old as Gabriel, new situations couldn't be pleasant. “The pull is there but your Grace doesn't know what to do?” He hoped by keep talking they might unravel this somehow or jumpstart something in Gabriel's long memory.

 

“Yes,” Cas spoke up when Gabriel remained silent, Dean was watching them all, “and so it spins out of control and tries to zero in on something that isn't there.”

“Like if someone was praying behind warding?” Sam asked and slipped into the chair next to Gabriel, dividing the books between Cas and himself because Dean had preferred the laptop right away, once more on a bender where he pretended he was allergic to books.  
“Must be some heavy warding,” Gabriel showed he was listening after all, even though he still wasn't looking at any of them, choosing to stare at Dean's half empty beer bottle, “because even if Sam prays in here and I'm _not_ here, I can still hear him loud and clear.”

 

“Magic?” Dean proposed into the silence that followed and he began typing on the keyboard, Cas abandoned one book for another upon that word.

“Yeah, that could be it.” Gabriel shook himself free from wherever he had gone in his head and Sam caught his eyes for a moment, saw the worry in them over not being able to help someone who might need him.

 

“So what can we do? Someone is obviously in danger.” Dean insisted and pushed the laptop shut when it wasn't helpful at all, he was frustrated because things were fuzzy, Sam knew that his brother hated puzzles. Dean needed something to punch or shoot.

“Or someone is trying to torture Gabriel.” Cas threw in like the scene shocker he could still be sometimes, Sam suppressed a smile when Gabriel gave his brother the bitch face. Sam chose to intercept before the angels could get at it again because that meant Gabriel throwing around references Cas wouldn't understand and then Cas would turn to Dean to explain and Dean would get annoyed at Gabriel after the third round. They had an issue to deal with here.

 

“Regardless of what it is, we need to get to them. Either to save them or to stop them.”

 

\--

 

_**GABRIEL!!** _

 

\--

 

Gabriel screamed and crashed from the chair onto his knees, clutching his head in his hands as the voice broke through for just long enough to be heard. The sound of it was strained and contorted and still Gabriel recognized it right away.

 

“It's Chuck.”

 

Sam was there immediately, kneeling next to him, hands pulling Gabriel upright, holding onto his shoulders, fingers digging in a little just like Sam had done in the months where Gabriel had sometimes been unable to believe that he was free of the Pagans. He let himself be grounded by it now, led out of the pain.

 

“Where is he?” Sam wanted to know gently and the other two boozos were quiet for once, thankfully, Gabriel breathed and closed his eyes to focus but he found nothing.

“I don't know,” he ground out between his teeth, frustration real. “Something is blocking me off. He only got through because he was screaming.” And he flinched away from the memory of that agony.

“In his prayers?” Dean questioned over the table, his voice showing that that idea affected him, prayers were something sacred and private, calm and blessed, only those from desperation could become loud in an angel's mind.

 

And Chuck's had been deafening.

 

“Something is wrong. He must have been attacked or taken, he wouldn't reach out otherwise.” Sam pointed out and he helped Gabriel back onto the chair, hovering at his shoulder, Gabriel wasn't so sure anymore if it was to give Gabriel support or if he needed it himself. A few months ago, back in Sedalia, Sam had been hit by Chuck's almost rude dismissal, had wondered if he had done something wrong. Gabriel had needed weeks to have him understand where Chuck had come from, that his desperate need to get away was born from fear, not hatred, that the guy just really wanted to escape the supernatural world because he could.

 

Until now.

 

They needed to find him.

 

\--

 

As they let off of him for the first time in hours, Chuck dropped entirely powerless to the ground, not even feeling anymore how hard he hit the ground. There was no room anymore for even more pain, not when every part of himself was already burning with hell fire.

 

And for the first time in his life since he had collapsed to the ground on the night of his college graduation, Chuck prayed to God. He prayed to God until he couldn't get a thought together anymore and then he passed out. Welcomed the cold and silence of darkness and nothingness like a long lost friend.

 

_Help me!_

 

\--

 

_Son._

 

Gabriel froze mid move towards putting the book he had unsuccessfully been brooding over back into the shelf.

 

_Dad?_

 

_The little former Prophet. He is being tortured in Hell. The closest gate to him is in Saint Joseph. You must all hurry or he will die._

 

_I will fly..._

 

“Gabe, are you okay?”

 

_You cannot fly. There are too many wardings put in place. You will need the brothers to take down the wards before your Grace can breach the gate. Hurry, my son, Chuck Shurley needs your help._

 

Gabriel's mind snapped back into the library with a gasp and as he turned around he saw Sam on his feet with his hand still on the back of his chair, Cas and Dean watching with lowered book and laptop.

 

“I know where Chuck is, we need to go.”

 

“How...”

 

“I'll explain on the way but we need to go. Now!” Gabriel insisted and strode over to pull Cas to his feet, Dean already got up as well to get the keys and the bags they boys always had packed.

“Where is Chuck, Gabe?” Sam demanded to know from him when Cas rushed off to help Dean, having sensed Gabriel's urgency. Gabriel looked to Sam and tried not to flinch before even speaking, his own emotions were in turmoil but Grace was keeping it controlled. They had talked about the little former prophet, about how they thought that he had seemed lonely and still so afraid, even if he insisted on being happy.

 

Sam was worried because Chuck didn't want their help, because Chuck was still scared of Dean and Cas, hurt by what they had done and Sam couldn't do anything against it. His too kind hunter with the too big heart.

 

A heart he had to metaphorically stab now.

 

“Chuck's in Hell.”

 

\--

 

Dean showed his own worry in making the usual three and a half hours drive from Lebanon to Sain Joseph in under three and they reached the outskirts of it in the early evening hours as the sun began to set. Once close enough Cas led Dean towards the demonic traces that surrounded the gate to Hell while Gabriel tried to find a connection to Chuck again but something was still blocking him.

 

The farmhouse looked rather picturesque as they arrived at it, parking the Impala further out to not lose all means of surprise just yet. Sam and Dean armed themselves and then they were off, seeking out the sigils that warded this place against angelic powers and the entrance to Hell. It took a lot longer than Gabriel wanted it to take, time was running out on them, and even more severe, time was running out on Chuck.

 

When they finally destroyed the sigils that had been set into place with dark magic, Gabriel still felt like something was off but at least he had a better sense of his surroundings.

 

And then they were storming the gate of Hell.

 

\--

 

He woke back up to the sound of screams, gunfire and general mayhem, still unable to move Chuck couldn't do much more than await his fate. Every breath hurt, every single nerve screaming for mercy and he just wanted it to end. He wanted the darkness back. Instead he got the sound of a door splintering apart and then heavy footsteps entering the room, and then one of the best sounds ever to hear in that moment.

 

If he could have opened his eyes, he would have, just to lay eyes on him.

 

“Shit,” Sam Winchester cursed and steps turned into a run before something heavy fell down close to Chuck, “Fuck, this is bad. GABE!” Chuck winced when Sam yelled so loudly so close to him and then a warm hand touched his right leg, maybe the only part of him not currently burning in agonizing pain. And still Chuck flinched because it hurt and some whispery scream fell past his lips. “Fuck, you're awake. Gabe, hurry!! Chuck, just hold on, we got you. Gabe will heal you in a moment, it's gonna be okay. Dean and Cas have gone after that bitch.”

 

Chuck wanted to say something but his lips wouldn't move.

 

Then there were more footsteps hurrying into the room and then an Archangel cussing before Chuck felt himself float away into a land of oblivion for a very long moment but this time there wasn't darkness. This time there was light and warmth and love.

 

“Chuck? Hey, Chuck, can you hear me?” Gabriel's voice was soothing and Chuck wanted to get lost in it, the pain was gone and he was drunk on the lack of it, kept his eyes close to not lose the illusion. Gabriel had come.

“Gabe, what did they do to him?” Sam was asking somewhere above him and Chuck could have opened his eyes to look at him but he didn't want to lose this dream, he didn't want to go back to the pain.

 

“I think you don't want me answering that. Go, make sure these fuckers pay for what they did. I got him.”

 

Gabriel got him. Gabriel and Sam would take care of him, they would protect him. Chuck could stop holding on.

 

\--

 

Sam followed the path of destruction that Dean and Cas had left behind, if they put their mind to it and stopped being too concerned for each other's well-being for a moment they could truly be an unstoppable force.

 

Right now, he welcomed it, was giddy with it, taking out a few stragglers who came stumbling into the corridors too late. Hell was built like an office building here, long empty corridors, just as empty office rooms behind the doors that opened. In the biggest one at the far end of the widest corridor, on the opposite side of where he had found Chuck he found his brother and Cas with the demon in a female meat suit who had been the leader.

 

The one who called herself Abbadon.

 

A Knight of Hell.

 

Sam's mind recalled the bloodied barely recognizable form of Chuck as he had stormed into the room, how he had been so still that just for a moment he had thought that... There had been so much blood. And one of his legs... His hands, his writer's hands broken and... His eyes bloodied and swollen shut. And all that blood. Sam didn't even realize how he had raised his gun, aimed at Abbadon's head before Dean was suddenly there and pushing it down.

 

“We need to have her talk, first.”

 

“You didn't see him!” Sam snarled and his fingers tightened around them gun, “you didn't see him, Dean. There was more blood outside of him then inside! I could see the bone in his thigh! He screamed when I just touched him!” Dean's hand moved around his right wrist, squeezed, grounded.

 

“After we got her to talk.”

 

“Then make her talk!”

 

Dean nodded and stepped away again.

 

\--

 

By the time Gabriel turned up with a still responseless Chuck carried in his arms, they weren't any further, despite Dean losing himself in interrogation techniques that would make Sam uncomfortable if his mind wouldn't remind him of Chuck bloodied and broken every five minutes.

 

Gabriel and him exchanged a look and then Sam walked over to him, understanding right away so Gabriel shifted Chuck carefully over into his arms. Sam didn't watch Gabriel approach Dean and Cas and the smirking Abbadon, too busy being focused on Chuck's open eyes, blue eyes were staring at nothing. Blue eyes were just so empty... There was always no life in Chuck's face if it wasn't for the regular blinking of his eyes, lips slightly apart but otherwise he was so still.

 

Sam took a few more steps to the back of the room, took a check on the whole situation once more and then carefully settled himself and Chuck onto the ground.

 

“Hey, Chuck? We're gonna get you out of here soon, yeah? You're safe now, we won't let anything happen to you. You can come back to us.” Sam gently coaxed, shifting his arm until he could softly place a hand on Chuck's jaw. He frowned over how cold the smaller man seemed, Gabriel must have already snapped clothes onto him, for he had been wearing basically nothing anymore when they had found him. “Take all the time you need, alright? We'll keep you safe.”

 

He looked up when Abbadon died screaming under Gabriel's blade.

 

“I could have made her talk,” Dean growled when all that was left was a dead meat suit but Gabriel shook his head, blade disappearing from his hand.

“She wouldn't have talked, Deano. She wasn't just a demon, she was a Knight of Hell,” Gabriel emphasized and his shoulders were tenser than Sam had seen him in a while. “The only one she ever answered to were Cain and Lucifer.” And with that having been said he turned his back on Dean, Cas and the dead Knight to walk back over to Sam.

 

Gabriel crouched down and immediately went to check on Chuck but nothing had changed, he still wasn't with them.

 

“Why is he still out of it if you healed him?” Sam asked quietly while Dean and Cas argued over how to take care of the dead bodies in the background, Dean was arguing vehemently to call Crowley and leave it up to him to clean up his house.

“We have to give him time,” Gabriel whispered when Sam looked at him in his helplessness and he stroked a hand through short curly hair. “We can heal almost about anything, Sam. Bring people back from the dead even,” Gabriel reminded him as if it was necessary, “but we can't heal shock. I can't heal him from being so afraid. We don't even know how long he was kept down here, how long they were...” He broke off when Dean approached them.

 

“Fuck,” Dean commented when he saw Chuck for the first time and Sam glared at him, ready to snap at his brother that he didn't even know the tip of the iceberg, he hadn't seen Chuck lying in a fucking pool of his own blood, broken and battered and... Gabriel's hand on his knee brought him out of his mental rage and Gabriel subtly shook his head at him, this wasn't the time to argue over Dean's tact. And then his brother was talking again anyway, turning to Gabriel. “Bring him to the bunker and take Sam with you, too. Cas and I, we'll call Crowley and then follow you soon, couple of hours.”

 

“You got it, Dean. Hold onto him, Sam.”

 

\--

 

Gabriel brought them straight into the war room of the bunker, thanks to his own additions to the bunker's warding that was the only part of it where angels could fly to and from. Dean had initially argued to close off the entire bunker but Gabriel and Cas had successfully argued against him, pointing out to him that it might get useful in the future if danger loomed.

 

Now, Sam was just happy he could directly walk towards the living quarters without carrying Chuck down the stairs, he was growing exhausted, between fighting and this worry eating him inside out. Gabriel followed him close by, hand on the small of Sam's back, giving comfort in his own way.

 

They got Chuck settled in the room between theirs, a gap they had unintentionally created when Gabriel hadn't liked to be sleeping right across from the hallway with the showers. Wrapped in comfortable clothes and the duvet, Chuck looked positively lost in the bed and Sam dragged a hand down his face and then through his hair. He sank only too greedily into the hug that Gabriel pulled him into.

 

“Go, take a shower, change into something comfortable. He's strong, Sam, he just needs some time now.”

 

Sam wasn't so sure about that but he still left Gabriel to watch over Chuck and went to take that shower, he needed it, not just because he was covered in demon blood but also to get his head clearer. The showers were one of the greatest things in the bunker and something that neither Sam nor Dean ever missed about motel shifting, hot water that never ran out and perfect pressure, it was just pure magic almost.

 

The warm water felt nice and getting clean anyway, though Sam had to swallow hard when he first saw the water turning faintly red at his feet, mind flashing back to when he had found Chuck in that pool of his own blood. It was something he had hoped he would never get to see, he had truly believed that Chuck had found a way to get out, to have that normal happy life that Sam had wanted for himself once upon a time, too.

 

Like Dean and himself, Chuck had never had a choice of not being dragged into this whole mess, he had been part of this whole fated Apocalypse just like they had, only he had never been granted the means to protect himself, to not be scared, no explanations ever for the guy until Sam and Dean had stumbled upon him. Chuck may have had an Archangel sitting on his shoulder until Lucifer and Michael went into the Cage but after that he had just been another human.

 

Someone wrapped up in all this supernatural crap without any hunting skills or desires.

 

So when Sam had met him again and heard that he had managed to make a life for himself, to get out, he couldn't have been happier, especially at that time where he had tried to do the same for himself. Chuck had looked so much better back then, still nervous and skittish but no longer a drunk wreck, he had smiled more and seemed overall more relaxed and less paranoid. Sam hadn't been happy to see him go that day but he had known that Chuck would only get to remain outside of that world if any and all Winchester influence stepped away from him, too.

 

And then he had broken that promise to himself in Sedalia, just too happy to see the other man again, too happy to see how good Chuck looked, how good this new life was treating him, too excited even maybe to see Gabriel so confused because he hadn't known a thing. He had gotten swept away in it and then basically puppy-eyed Chuck into coming along to tell Dean, Cas and them about the monster they had been chasing and he had been thinking to not be more than just fairytale.

 

He had regretted his decision the second Chuck had pulled into himself by stepping into the motel room, had not looked at anyone while talking and reverted back to being the twitchy man Sam had first seen in a messy house. And then he had basically run from them like they had been the monster, information given, goodbye. He had been scared and Sam had felt awful, hadn't he been so happy over Chuck being able to say goodbye to the supernatural, to not get involved further than the folklore stories he was writing over things that were mostly made up or just culture?

 

Gabriel had chased after Chuck while Sam had just sat there, feeling stupid and guilty.

 

In the months after he had often thought about reaching out, about finding a phone number or write a letter, Chuck had never moved after all but Gabriel and his own subconsciousness had talked him out of it every single time. Chuck had wanted out and contacting him now would only mean drawing him back in without the guy wanting it, or worse putting attention on him and making him a target to get to them.

 

And apparently one day in Sedalia had already been enough.

 

Sam sighed and leaned his forehead against the shower wall, he had no doubt that Chuck had gotten taken because of them, tortured because of them, because those assholes thought he knew something. And wasn't there a chance he did? Back in the day he had known more about Sam and Dean than they had about each other frankly, and there was a very good reason Prophets had their fairy God Mother Archangel leashed to them.

 

Prophets knew stuff, too much maybe even, about Heaven and Hell.

 

And Chuck had been free for the taking.

 

Taking a deep breath, Sam finished his shower and got dressed again, hair still damp when he walked back into the room next to his. The only thing about Chuck that had changed was his closed eyes. “He fell asleep, probably a good sign, means he feels safe enough here.” Gabriel told him when Sam sank down on the foot of the bed, Chuck was so small, he barely took up any space, curled up as he was. “Hey,” Gabriel crouched down in front of Sam and nudged his chin up with a finger, “this isn't your fault. This could have a million reasons, Sammy.”

 

“Gabe, do you really want me to believe that it's a coincidence that Chuck got kidnapped a few short months after we ran into each other again? He lived years in peace and I ask him to help us once and bam... he gets tortured.” Sam whined in the end and closed his eyes, images popping up again like bad cinema. Gabriel curled a hand around the right side of his face.

“Sam, we don't know what happened. We don't even know what they wanted from him.” Gabriel insisted and Sam blew out a breath before leaning into his touch.

“You have a guess though,” he mentioned because Gabriel's eyes carried a shadow now, something that Sam didn't like, Gabriel gave him a crooked smile.

 

“I have some ideas but we can talk about that when our brothers get here.”

 

\--

 

Gabriel turned the chair and the table across the bed in what was now temporarily Chuck's room into a couch, and Sam and him got comfortable while they waited for Dean and Cas to return to the bunker, watching over Chuck who sleeped peacefully. Gabriel held his Grace closer to the surface than normal, having it keep track of Chuck's dream to intervene if it got dark, so far Chuck was not dreaming at all, out cold.

 

“How...” Sam ripped him out of his focus on Chuck and Gabriel turned to look over to his favourite hunter, Sam was slouched back against the couch, side of his head resting against Gabriel's shoulder, “how did you know where Chuck was?” And there was the question again that Gabriel had been successfully able to dodge in the car ride to Saint Joseph, everyone had been too focused on making plans and gaining speed in order to ask how.

 

He took a deep breath and settled his eyes back on Chuck's so still form beneath the duvet, a speck of dark hair and too pale skin within a next of white. And he braced himself for any possible reaction from Sam as he answered.

 

“Dad.”

 

“God?” Sam choked on the word nearly and pushed himself upright, turning to stare at Gabriel with those too round eyes he could get when he was surprised and being too adorable again.

“Yeah, Daddy dearest talked to me.” Gabriel explained and met Sam's eyes, didn't kid himself that his own wouldn't show the vulnerability he still felt over it. It had been so long, so long since he had last heard his father's voice and now he had done so for only a few short words. “Don't ask me when the last time was before that, it's not a timeframe you could understand. I was still in Heaven then.”

 

Back when Michael and Lucifer had been fighting but also stilll been brothers, when Raphael had already been a dick but cowered under the idea of Michael getting to know what he was truly doing. Back when Gabriel had still had three older brothers who had their troubles with each other but never with him.

 

“Is he...” Sam began to ask hesitantly, probably sensing that Gabriel wasn't so thrilled about the development in general, he even settled a hand on Gabriel's knee, a gesture he appreciated.

“Back?” He finished the question and then shook his head, sliding lower on the couch and changing their positions by leaning against Sam's shoulder now. “No, I don't think so. I can't make rhyme of it but I am getting the weird feeling that he is fairly invested in Chuck's well-being.” As confusing as that might be now, considering that his old man hadn't cared about the guy when he had been seizing on the ground with visions and drowning his terror in booze.

 

Gabriel knew without a doubt that Chuck had fared worse than all other Prophets before him, none of his predecessors had been hit by the Apocalypse coming for them, and none of them had ever been used to change the story. And none of them did ever have to figure out a life after. A life where they still knew too much sensitive information but had lost the guard dog.

 

The accident that Sam had told him about had shown that Chuck had no Archangel supervision anymore because Raphael had still been alive at that point and would have been forced to intervene, even a jerk like him couldn't go against instinct. And Gabriel hadn't felt anything either, Pagan Magic Prison cell or not, he had only started to feel a connection to the new Prophet, this kid named Kevin, since he had returned to Heaven and brought some order back into the chaos before this douchebag Metatron could have made himself more important than he ever was.

 

Chuck had been on his own.

 

Until Dad must have decided enough was enough.

 

“Do you think God decided to grant Chuck a second chance at being just human?” Sam took another guess at the question they had been sitting on for a while after Sedalia because Gabriel had known for so sure that Prophets just didn't get a time after, there was no stopping being a Prophet.

 

Until now.

 

“For having been chosen as the Prophet for the shittiest part of history? Yeah, maybe.” He offered his opinion and maybe he sounded too bitter but Sam shifted until he could wrap an arm around Gabriel's shoulder, Gabriel only too gladly sank against him, a hand falling onto Sam's thigh. “It's certainly along his line of mercy. But I don't know.” How would he ever know for sure, Dad had left so long ago. And not even Michael had known why.

 

“Are you okay?” Sam wondered quietly and Gabriel felt him lean down until lips could press a kiss onto the top of his head before Sam settled back again and instead reached up with his hand to stroke through Gabriel's hair.

“No. I'm not.” And that was the simple answer to everything. “Hearing his voice again... after so long... and then add to it me just wanting to storm into Hell and turn it upside down for what they did to Chuck... I'm not in a good space right now.” He wasn't, he wasn't at all, a great part of him wanted to fly into Hell and cause havoc, take apart demons until one of them talked. He wanted to fly into Heaven and order a garrison to catch him every demon who had ever had the smallest dealings with Abbadon.

 

Gabriel wanted to help Chuck and ensure that he was truly going to be alright, to make sure that he would not stop losing his positivity now, that he felt safe again. He wanted to find a way to bind himself to an ex-Prophet so this could never ever happen again.

 

He just wanted to do more than just sit and wait.

 

“Can I do anything?”

 

“Just be here.”

 

\--

 

A little over four hours later, Chuck was so deep asleep that Sam and Gabriel dared to venture back into the library and it was just in time for Sam's phone to ring with a call from Dean. He set the call on speaker and then called out a greeting to his brother.

 

“Yeah, we're done cleaning up. Found nothing that could give us any more information, Crowley isn't picking up either. We should be back in half an hour. How is Chuck?” Dean explained what had happened on their side, Sam sighed and exchanged a look with Gabriel.

“He's asleep. I guess we just need to wait now what happens when he wakes up.” Sam answered him and leaned back into the chair, he was so tired himself. Like actually mind numbingly tired, and there was so much they needed to figure out still.

 

“I'm torn between wanting him to remember stuff and hoping he doesn't remember a single second,” Dean grumbled and Sam hummed in agreement. “By the way, I left Crowley a message, told him that it was _you_ who got caught by Abbadon.” Sam blinked at the phone and Gabriel's eyebrows pulled together as something in him rose that Sam wanted stopped, thankfully Dean quickly went on. “I didn't want to tell him about Chuck, would have only brought too many questions up. The more Crowley doesn't know about Chuck, the better. And with you, Crowley will think that Hell just pissed off an Archangel, so...”

 

“They did piss off an Archangel!” Gabriel protested Dean's half lie, “I don't care who it was who got kidnapped! Do you think I wouldn't want revenge if it was anyone else but Sam?”

“That's not what I meant,” Dean calmly hit back, you could hear the exhaustion in him, too, “Crowley knows about you two, he doesn't know about Chuck. Let him be warned, I don't care if it was for the right reasons. You two were the ones who were so insisting on letting Chuck have his life away from all this shit.”

 

Sam let his brother rant, knew that it was just Dean's way of dealing with this situation.

 

“Brother, do you have any ideas on what information Abbadon might have wanted from Chuck?” Cas took over the conversation and Sam saw how Gabriel grimaced.

“I've got a few, none of which I really like.” Gabriel grunted out and Sam slipped an arm around his shoulders, pulled him closer, “and it's nothing I want to say over the phone.”

“We'll be there as fast we can,” Dean promised and then hung up without a word of goodbye, Sam sighed and leaned his head against Gabriel's, closing his eyes to just take in that even if not alright, they were all rather okay.

 

They could focus on fixing now.

 

\--

 

There was light but it wasn't blinding him, he was four years old again and his mother was buckling him into the car seat, smiling full of joy and happiness as she told him about the big trip they were going on. His father already tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the country song playing on the radio, grinning at Chuck in the rearview mirror.

 

“You ready, champ?”

 

“Yes.”

 

He was four years old and he wanted his Mommy and his Daddy but there were only strangers behind masks and he was hurting. He wanted his Mommy to tell him that everything was gonna be okay but there were only cold hands and too bright light.

 

“Don't cry, little one, everything is gonna be okay. The doctor will be here soon.”

 

But he didn't want the doctor, he didn't want to be in the hospital.

 

“I want my Mommy.”

 

Chuck was ten years old and tracing fingers over the smooth black leather cover of the journal he was holding in his left hand, the lights of the christmas tree are twinkling above him, the warmth of the fire cradling him in its comfort. Aunt Lilly is smiling at him when he looks up at her. The journal is heavy and thick and there are so many pages in it, and it had to have been expensive.

 

“Like this you won't have a mess of papers flying around anymore when you want to write, my sweetheart. And open it, look on the back of the cover.”

 

There were his initial branded into the leather.

 

“Thank you so much!”

 

He was ten years old and Thomas Doley was kicking at him even when Chuck was already down on the ground, Steve Norris and Ben Paulsen were laughing and continuing their name calling. Calling him a freak and a weirdo, warning him to cross them again even though they were already handing out the physical punishment.

 

“Just be normal, Shurley, and we won't have to kick it out of you anymore.”

 

Chuck could only look at the journal he had thankfully dropped into a bush when Ben had pushed him, they hadn't seen it like that.

 

“Thanks for telling me.”

 

He was one week past his sixteenth birthday and Aunt Lilly had let him go up to that old hunting cabin of grandfather's for a long weekend. Chuck wrote from the first ray of sunlight to the last, sitting on the front porch of the cabin, surrounded only by the sounds nature gave him, undisturbed from any disturbances he had been able to fully emerge himself in his inspirations and ideas.

 

“For me?”

 

“Yes, I want you to be the first one to read it. As a thank you, for... always being there, for taking care of me.”

 

It was a short story collection, ten stories just, but Chuck was proud that he had finally managed to finish an idea just the way he wanted to. So happy.

 

He was sixteen and Debbie Meyers ridiculed him in front of the entire school when instead she poured the bottle of water down his pants after he had come to the meeting point she had told him to meet her at in her letter.

 

“You're so easy fool, Shurley. Truly this is me doing you a favor.”

 

She had walked away then, laughing and shaking her head while he stood with soaked pants in the middle of a sniggering and hollering crowd. Thankfully his bag hadn't been hit by the water.

 

“Thank you for showing me why humanity is useless.”

 

He was twenty one and his professors were full of compliments for his writing, praised his skill and his determination to follow a muse and go where inspiration struck and not where the stereotyping was leading. And the happiest times he had at college when he was in between classes, sitting out on campus in a quiet corner and watching people go about their lives.

 

He was twenty one and collapsing into sharp pain and blurry images flashing through his mind, seizing two steps past the front door of his home. His uncle yelling his name, still holding Chuck's degree.

 

Chuck was older and waking up in a meadow, his mind his own for the first time in ages and he dared to feel hope again.

 

Chuck was lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and grimacing over the numbing sensation of too heavy pain killers but he was so happy. His body, his mind, his dreams, his thoughts, his choices, his decisions, all his own.

 

Chuck was walking down a hotel corridor, bumping into Sam Winchester, being shocked but also so happy to see him alive and well.

 

Chuck was sitting in the most comfortable armchair in the world, out on the patio of his home, watching the sunset and wondering if Sam had found his happiness yet.

 

Chuck was walking into a grocery sture and bumping into Sam Winchester and Gabriel, then he was sitting in a motel room with those two and Dean and Castiel and he didn't want to be there but he also wanted because they looked so happy and content with each other.

 

Chuck was in pain and everything hurt...

 

No, he wasn't in pain anymore. He wasn't in Hell anymore, Sam and Gabriel had come and they had saved him. Gabriel had heard him and rescued him. He was okay now.

 

“Chuck?” A voice, warm and gentle and protective. “Chuck, if you can hear me, can you try and squeeze my hand?”

 

Getting aware of his body again feels weird, so much weirder than it had been in the meadow after the averted Apocalypse but he was warm again, lying on something soft, there were no birds tweeting but soft music somewhere in the background. His hand was held by something soft and warm and strong but the good kind of strong.

 

Chuck was safe.

 

And he squeezed the fingers under his.

 

“Yes, that's good. Gods, I'm so happy right now. You're safe, Chuck, you're in the bunker with us. Nothing can get to you here, you're absolutely safe here.”

 

He was truly safe.

 

“Sam.” And his voice was a mess but he got heard because his hand got squeezed and then there was another pair of hands carefully reaching under his shoulders and back to pull him up. Chuck didn't flinch though, not upon the touch of hands while he still couldn't open his eyes, nor when he was leaned back against a warm comfortable chest, he knew who the other person was. Something cold was touched to his lips and Chuck took a grateful sip of the cold water that Gabriel helped him drink.

 

“Can you open your eyes, Chuck?”

 

It took effort and courage but Chuck blinked open his eyes, happy over the dimmed light in the simple rather dull looking room, no windows, no decorations, he sure hoped this was neither Sam's nor Gabriel's room.

 

“There you are.” Sam was smiling at him, sitting on the side of the bed, one hand holding Chuck's still, the other resting on Chuck' knee over the blanket. “You had us worried there quite a bit.”

“How long was I out?” Chuck wanted to know carefully because Sam looked tired and a little shaken, enough to have Chuck squeeze his hand again.

“Five days,” Gabriel explained from behind him, once his hands were free again, the Archangel wrapped an arm loosely around Chuck's chest and it brought no fear now, it only made Chuck feel safe.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So far I have planned to write one more part to this, leave a kudos if you'd like to read a third part.


End file.
